


Two to Tango

by redlipstickblackdress



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Cheating, Dancing, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Murder, Mystery, Non-Graphic Violence, Romance, Tango
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-15
Updated: 2013-08-15
Packaged: 2017-12-23 15:04:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 14,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/927908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redlipstickblackdress/pseuds/redlipstickblackdress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Greg Lestrade takes a tango class after his divorce and is enchanted by the beautiful instructor, but is worried about her because several dancers are getting killed.  John Watson finds a new woman to love, hoping that Sherlock Holmes doesn't scare her away as the consulting detective attempts to stop Moriarty's games.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The First Dance

Greg Lestrade put on his coat and could not have been more relieved to be leaving for the day. It had been an incredibly boring day at New Scotland Yard and he had somewhere to be. Since his divorce from his wife, he had been a bit antisocial and had decided he needed to try something new, something he wouldn’t have done when he was married. He’d decided on a six-week tango class. It wouldn’t hurt to meet some new people, and possibly some women. Besides, he thought it might be interesting to know how to dance. He passed by Anderson on his way out. 

“Have fun at your girly dance class,” the nightmarish man said snidely, making fun of Lestrade. It took every remaining fiber of his sanity not to give him a punch in the jaw – why did he work with these idiots? Instead, he simply rolled his eyes. He would try to explain to his colleague that many women liked to dance, and that dancing allowed you to touch those women in a way that wasn’t creepy, but he knew that “not creepy” was a foreign concept to Anderson. 

He got in the cab and a few minutes later, he was entering the dance studio. He had to go up some stairs to get to it, but the windows on the second-floor studio had a beautiful view of the city. When he got into the room he took off his coat and hung it on a coat rack in a corner. Looking around at who had signed up for the class, Greg began to wonder if this was a good idea. There were two women near his age, not unattractive, but they looked ridiculously desperate – short skirts, cleavage pushed up, big hair. They were both eyeing him as if he were the last Sunday roast at the supermarket. 

Other than that, there was a teenage boy who looked incredibly uncomfortable (his mum had probably signed him up for it), a rather odd-looking fellow standing in a corner wearing a hat that didn’t suit him at all, a couple gazing at each other with big doe eyes, and a blonde girl who was probably about eighteen. A woman in a flowing red dress was standing near the window, presumably the instructor. Greg could only see her from the back. Next to her was a man in a black polo shirt, the collar popped up unnecessarily. He had his hand on her lower back, rather close to her backside. He turned his head away and waited for class to begin. 

*****

Alice glanced around to look at her students. There was a mushy couple, a somewhat creepy guy, an awkward teen boy, two middle-aged women who were desperate to meet men – the usual. Then there was a perky blonde who looked a bit dense but relatively harmless. The last to walk in was an attractive man with silver hair. There was something strangely alluring about him, despite the fact that he was a bit older. She can’t remember the last time she saw someone so handsome. He also had an intelligent, kind-looking face. She found herself looking at him from the side for a few moments, then remembered that she had a boyfriend and snapped out of it.

*****

“Hi, I’m Jean,” one of the desperate-looking middle-aged women approached Greg, arching her back so that her chest would stick out more prominently. Her friend was not to be out-done.   
“I’m Dolores,” she said, putting a hand on her hip and jutting it out toward him. 

“Hello,” he replied politely. “Greg.” 

“Nice to meet you, Greg,” Dolores said with a smile that made him a bit uncomfortable. Fortunately, he was rescued by the beginning of the class.

“Okay, I think we’ll go ahead and get started. Hello everyone,” the instructor turned from the window and walked toward them, and Greg’s breath seemed to stop. She was absolutely stunning. Her shoulder-length brown hair was softly waved around her face and she had on lipstick that matched the red dress – the dress that hugged her every curve. She looked like she was in her late twenties, and Greg wasn’t normally into younger women, but there was something about her that made him unable to keep his eyes off of her. She exuded something – a maturity that even the middle-aged women standing near him didn’t have. He listened, suddenly very interested in anything she had to say, as she continued. “I’m Alice, and this is my boyfriend Hunter, who will be helping me teach and demonstrate,” she told them in an American accent. 

Of course she’d have a boyfriend. Directing his attention to the guy in question, he was unimpressed – the collar of his unbuttoned polo shirt was pointed up toward the heavens in the same direction as his spiked-up hair. He had on glasses and a very smarmy sort of smile, and seemed unable to keep his hand from hovering near his girlfriend’s behind, although Greg honestly couldn’t say he blamed him. 

“I think we’ll just go ahead and let you all introduce yourselves and choose your own partners for the next six weeks.” 

They all exchanged names and introductions, and Greg was a bit frightened by the way Jean and Dolores were looking at him. Trying to think quickly, he turned and found the blonde girl, Georgia, standing near him. 

“Want to be partners?” he asked casually. He saw her looking at the other two males in the class, weighing her options. 

“Sure,” she shrugged. What a relief. At least she wasn’t acting like a predatory bird around him. 

Jean turned to the rather terrified looking teenage boy, Luke. 

“You’ll do,” she said, and Luke resigned himself to his fate. The remaining guy, Todd, sidled up to Dolores, who leaned away from him – he gave of a bit of a creepy vibe. The couple, Steve and Nadine, were taking the lessons together so that they could do a tango at their wedding.

Thus, the lesson began. They learned a few basic steps and Hunter put on a slow tango song for them to practice to. While they were practicing, Alice wandered around, correcting postures, helping with footwork, answering questions. When she came around to Greg and Georgia, she looked impressed. 

“Well done, Greg, are you sure you haven’t done this before?” she smiled at him, and he smiled back, unable to reply. What was wrong with him? Women never made him this goofy. “Just raise your arm a little bit,” she gently put her hand on his and placed it properly on Georgia’s back. Then she moved onto the next couple. 

Eventually, the class ended and everyone began to gather up their things, chatting excitedly about all they had learned. Alice made her way over to Greg as he was putting on his coat.   
“Good work today, Greg. You seemed to pick up the basics so naturally. Have you done any dancing before?” 

“No, none,” he managed to answer this time. 

“Well, you’re a natural. I’ll see you next week,” she said with a smile before going over to give Hunter a quick kiss.


	2. Two Tickets

“Sherlock, this is Ingrid,” John said, indicating the woman who was standing with him in his flat. He had gone on a few dates with her and they had stopped off to get something before going out. His flat mate was completely uninterested, staring into a microscope and ignoring the two people standing next to him. 

“Hello,” Ingrid said awkwardly. 

“Ballerina,” Sherlock said bluntly, still not looking up from his microscope. 

“Yes, I am,” she replied, giving John a curious look. “I’m starring as Odette in Swan Lake over the weekend,” she informed him proudly. “I’d be happy to get you and John tickets to come see it on opening night.” 

“No,” Sherlock said, but John laughed nervously.

“He’s kidding, he would love to see it. That would be lovely, wouldn’t it, Sherlock?” Sherlock just looked at him confusedly, but didn’t say anything and returned to his microscope. 

“Okay, I’ll go ahead and reserve those tickets for you, then,” Ingrid said. John decided that at this point they should leave before Sherlock scared his girlfriend away – Sherlock Holmes had a habit of doing that. 

When the couple left the flat, they got into a cab. 

“Your flat mate is…interesting. What does he do, exactly?” Ingrid asked.

“He’s a consulting detective. Sorry about him, he’s like that with everyone.” The ballerina pondered this information as they rode away.


	3. Shall We Dance?

Greg arrived at his second dance class and tried to keep his eyes off of Alice in her purple dress. She was even more gorgeous than he had remembered. His classmates were all chatting, Alice sitting by the sound system looking through CDs. Georgia was chatting at Hunter, who was smiling as if it were the most interesting thing in the world. 

“I mean, I don’t have a lot of favorite movies in my top five, I mean, there’s only like…five,” Greg heard her say, Hunter nodding as if this were fascinating. Perhaps his interest had to do with the skimpy low-cut top and tiny shorts she was wearing, despite the fact that it was a crisp London September. Greg was beginning to wonder how dedicated Hunter was to his girlfriend, but it was none of his business.

At this point, Alice gathered the class together and everybody partnered up. While they were practicing their new movements and exercises, Greg tried to make small talk with Georgia while they were dancing, but soon regretted having asked her what she did. 

“I’m a beauty consultant. Do you moisturize? You have really good skin for your age. I try to get my dad to moisturize but he doesn’t see the point. But, like, that’s beside the point…no, wait, that IS the point.” At this, Greg decided he would be better off enjoying his dance practice in silence. 

When Alice came around to give feedback to the students, she looked at Georgia’s steps for a minute, furrowing her eyebrow. 

“No, no, Georgia, like this,” Alice said, shooing the blonde out of the way and taking her place. She placed Greg’s hands on her where they needed to be. “Lead it,” she instructed, and Greg led the move, Alice expertly demonstrating the proper way to do it. It was the first time Greg had danced with Alice, and was amazed at how great it was to dance with someone who knew what she was doing. “Try it again, Georgia. Good work, Greg,” Alice said, replacing Georgia so that she could work on it. 

On Alice’s part, she couldn’t believe what a good student Greg was. He listened, he did what was instructed, he asked questions when he needed clarification. The fact that he was ridiculously handsome, funny, and sweet was a bonus too. She felt rather guilty for being so attracted to him – she’d been with Hunter for two years. Lately, however, she got the feeling that there was something a bit off in her relationship with Hunter, but she figured maybe they were just going through a rough patch and would get through it. She tried to tell herself that her attraction to her older dance student was just a result of the doubts she had about Hunter – surely those would pass soon and she’d get over it.


	4. Dancing on Air

John and Sherlock stepped up to the box office and asked for the tickets Ingrid had reserved for them. Sherlock was pouting – he hadn’t wanted to go, but John made him, thinking it would be rude to have Ingrid reserve a ticket for him if he didn’t even show up. Of course, Sherlock then wondered why John had told her to get a ticket for him when he clearly wasn’t interested in attending. 

They found their seats, ignoring the looks from people who clearly thought they were on a date, and waited for the show to begin. It wasn’t until Odette danced onto the stage that John knew something was wrong. 

“That’s not her,” he whispered to Sherlock. “That’s not Ingrid.” 

“Very good, John,” Sherlock said sarcastically. 

“No, this isn’t good. Where is she? She wouldn’t miss opening night.” 

Someone shushed them and John quietly pulled out his phone and tried to text Ingrid. He sat through the whole show with no answer. When the show was over, they made their way backstage to figure out what was going on. 

“Can I help you?” the prima ballerina said when she saw them. 

“Uh, yes, where’s Ingrid? I thought she was supposed to dance Odette,” John said, a bit confused.

“I was supposed to play Odette,” the dancer snapped. John looked confused. 

“Sorry, I thought…Ingrid told me she was playing Odette. I talked to her just yesterday.”

“No one’s heard from her all day. Good riddance, I say. With her gone, I could have my part back.”

“What do you mean?” Sherlock asked.

“I was cast as Odette. Then she came in, slept with the director and got me demoted to understudy.” 

“Sorry, she what?” John demanded. Ingrid certainly didn’t seem like that type. 

“Nobody’s heard from her, not the director, none of the dancers, none of the stage crew?” Sherlock asked, suddenly very interested. 

“No one,” the ballerina confirmed. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, my fans await,” she said, edging past them. Suddenly, Sherlock’s phone made a text tone. He pulled it out and saw the message.

Ballerinas are so graceful, aren’t they? 

He furrowed his brow, trying to make sense of it. Another text arrived.

Almost like they’re dancing on air. 

While Sherlock was processing this one, a third text came.

Care to take the lead? – JM

Moriarty. Of course he was behind this. He was playing games with Sherlock again, and starting with his flat mate’s girlfriend. Dancing on air, what did it mean? Hanged. Sherlock ran toward the stage, a stage hand trying to stop him, but he pushed his way in between the curtains. Looking up, far above him, he saw someone hanging from the rafters. Grabbing a curtain rope, he lowered the body down, pulling it out from between the curtains. People began to scream, some gathering around to see what was going on. 

“Oh, god,” John put a hand over his mouth in horror. “It’s Ingrid…oh my god.” Sherlock, meanwhile, had pulled out his phone and made a call.

“Detective Inspector Lestrade, please…Lestrade, I think you’re going to want to see this.”


	5. A Much-Needed Drink

Eventually, the crime scene was cleaned up and the chaos died down. The body was sent away for an autopsy, evidence was taken into custody, there was nothing left to do for the moment. The most unusual thing about it all, in Sherlock’s mind, was that the victim had been wearing loads of expensive jewelry, but it all looked brand new, as if someone had put it on her. The consulting detective went back to his flat to do some research. John needed a drink, but didn’t want to be alone. Fortunately, Greg was available, so they went to a nearby pub to grab a couple of drinks. 

They walked in and looked around for a place to sit, when Greg’s eyes fell on someone he knew. She looked up and saw him and motioned for him to come over. The men approached the table, at which there were three occupants: Alice, Hunter, and a pretty woman with red hair. 

“Hello, Greg!” Alice said, smiling at him. “You’re welcome to join us.” 

“Thank you,” he said, smiling back at her. Introductions were made all around, Alice and Hunter meeting John, and Greg and John meeting Anne, Alice’s best friend, also an American. John went to sit down next to the redhead and Greg sat next to him, across from Alice. 

“Nice jumper,” Anne said to John, although a bit sarcastically.

“Thank you…wait, what’s wrong with it?” 

“Nothing,” she said, although she looked a bit smug. 

“Look, I’ve had a very bad day, so if you don’t mind, I’d rather not have someone making fun of my jumper.” 

Anne didn’t say anything more at the moment, but the group as a whole chatted. Hunter had his arm draped over his girlfriend. Not around her, like he wanted her close to him…over her shoulders, like he just wanted everyone to know that he had dibs. Greg also couldn’t help but notice that whenever a young, attractive woman walked by, Hunter’s eyes followed her, running over her body. However, his gaze never rested affectionately on his beautiful girlfriend. 

“You two look like you need something strong,” Alice said. 

“You have no idea,” John said, motioning to the waitress. John ordered scotch, Greg a martini, dry. 

“What happened, if I can ask? If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine,” Alice asked sympathetically. She always seemed to be so sweet to everyone.

“We’ve just left the scene of a murder,” Greg told them, and Anne’s and Alice’s eyes got wide. “I’m a Detective Inspector,” he explained. 

“That must have been terrifying! Did you know the victim?” 

“She was my girlfriend,” John said, taking a large drink of his scotch. 

“Oh! That’s awful, I’m so sorry,” Alice told him, and Anne gave him a comforting look. 

During this entire time, Hunter didn’t say a word, didn’t even look like he was listening to the conversation. He was staring at the cleavage of a young woman who was leaning across a table talking to her friend. Greg clenched his jaw, determined to keep his mouth shut. 

“She was a dancer too,” John said, and Greg elbowed him. Talk about a way to frighten his dance teacher. 

“Really?” Alice asked, interested. 

“A ballerina.” 

“Well, I’m sorry you have to go through this. I can’t even imagine what that must be like.” 

At this point the subject changed, and the four chatted about various topics. Hunter was just sort of there, eyeballing women and very occasionally giving Alice a possessive kiss on the cheek if a man happened to look at her admiringly. It started to get late and everyone decided to disperse and go home. 

“See you on Wednesday, Greg,” Alice said with a smile. He smiled back at her, ignoring the fact that he wanted to punch her boyfriend in the face. 

“See you then.”


	6. Sharing a Meal

“Unexpected item in bagging area, please try again.” 

“Could you be quiet?” John argued with the machine. He hated the self-service check-out, he had no idea why he bothered using it. 

“Lovers’ quarrel?” a voice asked, sounding amused. John turned to see Anne, from the pub a few nights ago. “Maybe she doesn’t like your jumper.”

“What is wrong with my jumper?”

“Nothing, I like it. I’m just saying, maybe she doesn’t.” John had no idea what this confusing woman was talking about, so he just ignored her and continued trying to scan his items. 

“Item not scanned, please try again,” the robotic voice taunted him. 

“Yes, I’ve got it!” he snapped at the machine. Finally, he managed to get all the items paid for and was glad to be leaving the damn shop. 

“Good day,” he said to Anne, embarrassed that she had seen him arguing with a machine. 

“Do you want to get some food?” she asked, following next to him with her own purchase, which seemed to just be a tube of toothpaste. John looked at her confusedly – first she was making snarky remarks about his jumper, now she was asking him to get food with her? Still, he was kind of hungry, and, well, she was pretty. 

“I’ll need to stop off at my flat first,” he said, indicating that he’d need to drop off his groceries.

“I don’t mind,” she said, and so they got into a cab.

“221B Baker Street, please.” 

They arrived at the flat and Anne looked around while John stored away his groceries quickly. Anne had put the toothpaste in her purse. When John was done, they caught another cab and Anne directed them to a Moroccan restaurant where they sat on the floor and shared some exotic cuisine. 

“So, what is it you do, Anne?” John asked, always trying to be polite.

“I’m a motorcycle mechanic,” she told him. She usually drove a Harley, but she had walked to the shop that day because it was nice out. 

“Oh, interesting.”

“What about you?”

He tried to explain his past as an army doctor and his current situation being an occasional assistant to a consulting detective. 

“How do you know Alice, the dance teacher, then? Are you flat mates?”

“No, just best friends, we moved here together from America a few years ago. She lives with her boyfriend now, although to be honest, I can’t stand the guy.” 

“Why is that?” John asked, although he had noticed that Alice’s boyfriend didn’t seem that attentive to her.

“I think he cheats on her. I’ve tried to tell her, but she doesn’t believe it – she’s never found any evidence of it. In my opinion, the fact that he’s always checking out cheap-looking bimbos is evidence enough, but she doesn’t really notice it.” 

When they were finishing up their meal, John got a text.

Royal Academy of Dance. Come at once. – SH

“I’ve got to go,” John told Anne. 

“Is everything okay?”

“There’s been another murder – looks like another dancer.”

“Do you think they might be connected?” Anne asked, gesturing for the waiter to come so they could pay.

“Probably.”

“Well, if you need any help, Alice knows a ton about dance. She’s kind of a dance nerd, actually. Tango is her favorite, but she knows a lot of different dance styles and might catch something the police and your friend wouldn’t know.” 

“Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind,” John said, tossing some cash on the table and running off.


	7. An Expert is Needed

“Darla Singer,” Lestrade explained when John arrived. “A dance student. Looks like she was strangled, although she’s also rather scuffed up.” John looked over the body and determined that she had been strangled with the scarf that was wrapped around her neck and dragged along a road.

Sherlock looked over the body, Lestrade and John waiting for his brilliant assessment of the victim. She was wearing a Grecian style dress and had no shoes on. 

“Student of modern dance, her final year. She was working on her last performance exam, this is her costume. She had a lot of friends, many rivals, and was a favorite among teachers. She had a lot of pressure put on her but kept up with it all. Recently broke up with a fiancé, she called it off. Why does he target dancers, what is the connection between them?” Sherlock looked into space, thinking. “We need someone who knows a lot about dance.” 

“Greg knows a dancer,” Anderson said mockingly, causing Lestrade to give him a look. Sherlock looked thoughtfully at Lestrade.

“No. No, we’re not getting her involved, I’m not going to put unnecessary people in danger,” Lestrade said. 

“I met her,” John said. “I ran into her friend today and she did say that Greg’s dance teacher knows a lot about different dance styles.” 

“I said no,” Lestrade insisted. Sherlock stared at him until he couldn’t take it anymore. “Fine. I’ll ask her to answer some questions. But if anything happens to her, it’ll be on your head.”


	8. A Favor is Asked

Lestrade showed up for the third dance class and was once again mesmerized by Alice. He really didn’t want to get her involved in all of this, but they did need a dance expert. Class began and they practiced another set of movements, Georgia telling Greg about her weekend against his will. 

“I woke up in a random place with a lemon in one hand and a stranger’s keys in another, but they were not in a state to drive home, so like, I think I did them a favor,” she jabbered, and Greg tried to tune it out and focus on something else in the class. Steve and Nadine were snogging in the middle of their dance; Jean was telling Luke about her menopause, making him look like he would rather be stabbed a thousand times than listen to any more; Todd and Dolores were arguing about which one of them was messing up their dance. He hadn’t wanted to have to focus on Alice – it made him feel guilty to have such a strong attraction to a woman who was significantly younger, his instructor, and not to mention spoken for – but that’s where he found his attention resting. 

She looked at him, their eyes meeting, and Greg jerked his head away, not wanting to be caught staring at her. He knew she would never go for someone like him, but he wished she would at least see that she deserved better than the complete chav she was with. 

When the lesson ended, Greg approached Alice when she was alone, Hunter having gone over to chat with Georgia, who was giggling to him about more of her drunken escapades. 

“I’m afraid I have a sort of odd favor to ask you,” Greg started, then realized that was probably not the best way to start. However, Alice just looked like she was happy to help with whatever she could. 

“What is it?”

“You see, there have been a couple of murdered dancers lately, and we think there might be a connection. I guess John ran into your friend Anne yesterday and she said you were a dance expert, so I was wondering if we might consult you to see if there’s something we’re missing.” 

“Oh! Well…yeah, I think I can do that. I don’t know if I’d call myself an expert, but I can definitely try to help.” 

“That’s great. Thanks. Could you come to my office tomorrow afternoon?” 

“Sure,” she smiled, and he gave her a card with the information. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”


	9. Dance Consultant

Alice arrived at New Scotland Yard, got a visitor pass, and was directed to Greg’s office. He looked up when she came in. She was wearing blue jeans and a snug blue jumper – it was the first time he’d seen her in casual clothes, but she looked great. She was carrying a stack of dance history books that she thought might be helpful. When Alice entered, she saw Greg sitting at his desk in a nice suit with a white shirt and a tall, pale, handsome man wearing an overcoat and a scarf. 

“It’s good to see you, Alice. This is Sherlock Holmes…another consultant who’s helping with the case.” 

“It’s nice to meet you,” Alice said with a smile, and was just met with a scrutinizing stare that made her feel like he knew all her secrets. “How can I help?” she asked, ignoring the look and sitting down across from Greg. 

Sherlock told her everything he knew about the first murder. Alice thought for a moment, then grabbed a book and began to flip through it – a book about important moments in ballet. She found what she was looking for and read the page silently, Greg leaning across the desk to look at the page. Sherlock was simply staring out the window with his hands palm to palm in front of his lips. 

“You said that there was a jealous understudy who had been edged out of her role as Odette, and that the victim was wearing expensive jewelry?” 

“Yes,” Sherlock said, turning around to see if she had come up with anything. 

“That’s very interesting, because in the original 1877 production of Swan Lake, the role of Odette was intended for ballerina Anna Sobeshchanskaya, but she was taken out of the premiere and replaced with Pelageya Karpakova. The reason the original dancer was pulled is because she was given expensive jewelry by a Russian official, but ran away with a male dancer and sold the jewelry.” 

“Looks like the killer did their research,” Lestrade said. 

“Definitely. What about the other killing?” 

“Modern dance student, she was going to perform some sort of dance in a Grecian-style dress. When we found the body, she was wearing a rather long scarf and looked like she’d been dragged along a road, her arms were all scuffed up.” 

“Do you know what she was performing?” 

“I think it was called something with ‘water’ in the title,” Greg shrugged. 

“Water Study?” 

“Yes, that was it.” 

Alice grabbed another book and began furiously flipping through it until she found the page. Sherlock now looked very interested in the conversation. Alice came around to the other side of the desk so that the three of them could look at the book more easily. She tried to ignore how good Greg smelled as her face was fairly close to his. 

“That murder has Isadora Duncan written all over it,” Alice showed them the picture in the book. “She was a pioneer of expressionist dance and modern dance. Her costumes and dances were often inspired by Grecian culture. Water Study was one of her choreographies. Isadora died when one of the long scarves she famously wore got caught in the wheel of the open car she was riding in, pulling her out of the car and dragging her to her death by strangulation.” 

Sherlock and Lestrade exchanged a look as it all clicked. 

“The freakiest part? Isadora Duncan was born in 1877, the same year of the original production of Swan Lake.” 

“There’s definitely a pattern. The question is, what comes next, so we can stop it?” 

The only thing they could find was that Bob Fosse, a jazz and musical theatre dance innovator, was born in the same year that Isadora Duncan died, 1927. They didn’t know if that was the connection the killer would end up making or not, but even if he did, Fosse had choreographed so many famous musicals, it was difficult to see what could happen.


	10. Quality Time

Anne was bored out of her mind and knew Alice was answering some questions for the police, so she didn’t have anyone to hang out with. Suddenly, an idea popped into her head and she hopped on her Harley and rode to 221B Baker Street. The front door was open so she just walked in, seeing John inside on the couch watching the telly. 

“Anne? What are you doing here, exactly?” he asked, surprised to see her.

“I was bored and Alice is talking to your friend Greg,” she said, flopping down on the couch and putting her legs over John’s lap. He looked down at them a bit confusedly. “Touch my feet and you die,” Anne added. 

“Then why did you put them across me?” John asked. “Sorry…why are you here again?”

“I told you, there was nothing to do.” 

At this point, Sherlock came up the stairs to their flat, shouting at John from the stairs. 

“John, there’s a motorcycle in front…” Sherlock had entered and saw that they had a guest. He walked over to the couch, suspiciously looking at the visitor. “Why is there a motorcycle mechanic on your lap?” 

“I’ve been trying to figure that out myself,” John said, giving up at this point and grabbing a newspaper off the coffee table to read. “Sherlock, Anne. Anne, Sherlock.”

“American, enjoys the outdoors, loves the sound of a roaring engine, hasn’t had a date in months because she has high standards, and, for some reason, has developed a fondness for you, John,” Sherlock quickly deduced about her. It took a moment for John to process this, then he suddenly looked up from his paper. 

“Sorry…what?” 

“Nice party trick you’ve got there,” Anne said, unfazed by Sherlock’s accurate assessment of her character. Sherlock just stared at her for a moment before realizing she wasn’t going to move and turned to leave again. Anne and John sat like that all day, chatting, bickering over the remote, and laughing over the disgusting living habits of Sherlock Holmes.


	11. Cheater

While Alice was riding home in the cab, she tried to justify her guilt. She was far too attracted to Greg. He was intelligent, respectful, and incredibly handsome. She’d been with Hunter for two years, but to be honest, it seemed like they’d been growing apart lately. She was considering breaking it off, but decided to give him just a bit more time. After all, it could just be some kind of funk he was in. Perhaps this attraction to Greg was just a result of feeling neglected.

She arrived home and entered her flat. 

“Hunter?” she asked to see if he was home. There wasn’t an answer, but she heard kind of an odd noise coming from their bedroom. She walked down the hall, the noises becoming increasingly suspicious, and pushed the door open to find Hunter naked and on top of someone on the bed. When she came in, the two people turned around, surprised, and Alice saw that it was Georgia, the eighteen-year-old from her dance class. 

“Alice!” Hunter exclaimed, clearly surprised to see her, which was interesting, since she lived there. “I can explain.” 

“You don’t need to,” Alice glared, her voice shaking. She had known they were going through a rough patch, and she’d been told he might be cheating before, but she didn’t think he actually was. However, if she needed proof, she couldn’t have gotten better proof than that. “I knew you needed some practice, Georgia, but it might help if you were doing Argentinian tango instead of horizontal tango.” 

“It’s not what it looks like,” Hunter explained, as if there were some explanation that would clear everything up. 

“Get out.” 

“Listen, Alice, it meant nothing.” Hunter’s begging was just getting kind of pathetic. He had pulled his underwear on by this point and was putting on his pants, Georgia snapping her bra on.

“GET OUT!” The two rushed to finish dressing and Georgia just ran past Alice toward the front door. Hunter followed his mistress out of the room and stopped in the hallway to turn to Alice, pleading one last time. 

“Baby, listen, we can work this out,” he tried. 

“You’d better take her home before her curfew, like a good babysitter,” Alice said acidly. 

“Oh, you think I’m too old for her? That’s funny! I see the way you look at that old guy in your dance class,” he taunted, realizing that begging wasn’t working and getting defensive. However, Alice just picked up a tango heel that was sitting in the hall and threw it at his head. He ducked just in time for the shoe to hit the wall behind him. 

“OUT!” 

The two adulterers rushed out the door, Hunter slamming it behind them. With a last thought, Alice opened the door and shouted after them. 

“Don’t either one of you ever even THINK about coming near my dance studio ever again!” Then she slammed the door and leaned against it, sinking to the floor as she burst into tears, feeling a huge sense of betrayal.


	12. Ex Alert

Anne and Alice had gone out for drinks – the latter needed to process what had happened with Hunter. Anne was outraged on behalf of her friend. She really hadn’t wanted to be right about Hunter. Furthermore, she couldn’t imagine how someone could cheat on Alice – she was beautiful, sweet, funny, and intelligent. She and put on a low-cut green dress, Alice wearing a vintage polka-dot one, and gone to the pub.

After they’d had a few drinks and were having a good old-fashioned man-bashing, John came in. Anne and Alice saw him and gestured for him to join them. He was informed about Alice’s breakup and he bought her another drink. Anne and John did a great job of reassuring Alice that Hunter was a complete idiot and that she can do a lot better than him anyway, but after she had finished the drink, she decided that she wanted to go home and be alone for a while. Anne offered to go with her, but was told to stay and enjoy herself, so Alice got into a cab and went home. 

Anne and John ordered another round and began chatting about Anne’s job and John’s army experiences. Then, suddenly, John looked up and immediately lowered his head, trying to cover his face with his hand. 

“What is it?” Anne asked, looking in the direction he had just looked in.

“It’s my ex,” he said. 

“Where?” 

“Over there, the one with the pink top on. Oh god, she’s seen me.” 

“Did you have a bad breakup?”

“She said I’m a bad kisser,” he said, embarrassed. “No, oh no, she’s coming over.”

Anne saw the woman put on her coat and begin to approach, so she immediately took action; she put a hand on the back of John’s neck and pressed her lips to his. He instinctively started kissing her back, putting a hand on her knee to lean closer. They continued kissing for a minute before someone cleared their throat awkwardly and they both turned to see John’s ex standing there. 

“John?” she asked. 

“Cassandra. Hi,” he responded. 

“How have you been?” 

“Good…great. You?”

“Not bad,” she said, and the two of them nodded nervously at each other for a while. “Well, I’d better be off,” she said, and then was out the door. 

John sighed with relief. However, he barely had time to recover before Anne was kissing him again, her hands stroking through his hair. He couldn’t complain as he once again kissed her back without even thinking about it, his hands reaching over to her waist. She broke the kiss and it took him a moment to process what had happened.

“Why did you do that? She was gone,” he pointed out. 

“I just wanted to that time,” Anne shrugged. “Besides, she’s wrong. You’re not a bad kisser.” 

John couldn’t stop a smile from forming on his face at the compliment. He was considering asking her out when she continued their conversation from before as if nothing had happened, and he thought the better of it. This woman confused the hell out of him.


	13. A Walk

When Lestrade arrived at the dance class on Wednesday, he realized that there were two people missing. The first was Hunter, and the other was his dance partner, Georgia. Alice was looking out the window. After a few moments, she turned around, and Greg realized how sad he looked. Something must have happened with Hunter. Her eyes were red as if she had been crying. Greg wanted nothing more than to go over and wrap his arms around her to comfort her, but he stayed where he was. Alice took a deep breath and gathered the class together. 

“I’m afraid that Hunter will no longer be helping me demonstrate,” she informed them all, “and Georgia has dropped out. Greg, you’re going to have to get stuck with me for a partner,” she told him, and he couldn’t imagine why she’d think he would have a problem with that. 

She had him help her demonstrate some moves they had learned previously that the rest of the class needed to work on still. Then she put on some music for everyone to practice to. Greg led Alice into the moves she had taught, practicing them, asking her questions to make sure that they were correctly done. 

He didn’t know why Georgia had dropped the class, but he couldn’t help but silently thank her as he happily got to dance with a beautiful woman who was an amazing dancer. Just as he was enjoying being close to her, she flitted off to go give feedback to the other students. 

When the class was over, Greg almost got into a cab, but remembered that Alice had usually walked home with Hunter, but Hunter wasn’t here today. He sent the cab away and waited for a few minutes until she came out. 

“Greg? What are you still doing here?” 

“I wanted to make sure you get home safely,” he told her. 

“Oh, no, you don’t have to do that,” she informed him. “I don’t want you to have to go out of your way; I’ll be fine.” 

“I’d feel much better if you’d let me see you back to your flat,” he insisted. She paused for a moment, then smiled. 

“Thank you.” She pointed him in the right direction and they started walking. Greg glanced at her and saw the sad look on her face and wished he could hold her close. After a few minutes of silence, he finally spoke. 

“Care to talk about it? You don’t have to.” 

“It’s obvious, huh?” Alice asked, glancing at him. “Hunter…cheated on me. I found him in bed. With Georgia.” 

“Oh god, really?” Greg couldn’t believe that someone would ever cheat on Alice with such an airhead. 

“Yeah…I walked right in on them. I admit, I didn’t take it well. But, I kicked him out of our flat and told them both never to come back to my studio. I may have thrown a shoe…I wasn’t on my best behavior.” 

“I can’t blame you,” he said honestly. “If it helps, I know how you feel. My ex-wife was sleeping with a PE teacher.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry. That’s terrible.” Alice was surprised – how could anyone cheat on a man like Greg Lestrade? There were another few minutes of silence before she continued. “To be honest, Hunter and I were over a while ago, really. I was considering breaking it off, but I thought maybe we could work through it, maybe we were just going through a rough patch.” She paused, her thoughts getting away from her, before she added, more to herself, “to think I felt guilty about…” she stopped, suddenly realizing what she had been about to say. Greg looked at her curiously and she just blushed and continued. “If he had just broken up with me, I would have understood, but this…” She started to tear up at this point, and Greg patiently waited for her to compose herself and continue. “I wasn’t even worth being honest with. And I clearly wasn’t enough…and suddenly, I can’t help but wonder if there’s something wrong with me.” Tears were making their way down her face now, and she was rather embarrassed to be crying in front of him. 

“Now, don’t think like that,” Lestrade told her. “There’s nothing wrong with you, the problem’s with him. He couldn’t appreciate what he had.” She smiled gratefully and tried to wipe away some of her tears, although she was still crying.

“Thanks.” Greg smiled at her for a moment, then got an idea.

“Come on, let’s get you some tea. I know a tea shop around the corner.” 

He led her around the corner and into a small shop and sat them down at a table before having some tea brought to them. She sipped it slowly and before long had pulled herself together.

“Sorry,” she said, embarrassed that she had lost her cool.

“You don’t need to apologize, I understand.” 

“So, your ex-wife cheated on you?” she asked. “Sorry, you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“No, I don’t mind. I found out at a Christmas party. Our marriage had been a bit rocky anyway, but we had gotten back together. It was over after that.” 

“I’m sorry,” she said again. 

“She would have made fun of me for taking dance lessons. Would have said it wasn’t manly.” 

“Then she can’t appreciate a real man. Ask most women and they’ll tell you: tango dancer trumps PE teacher any day.” 

They finished their tea and continued the walk to Alice’s flat. 

“I’ve been sleeping on my own couch. I can’t even bear to be in that bed.” 

“I remember that feeling.” 

“I never imagined how much more cheating would hurt than if he’d just ended it with me,” she admitted. “Every insecurity I’ve ever had was amplified when I saw Georgia in that bed. Wondering if she’s prettier than me or smarter…wondering what she has that I don’t.” 

“Now, how could you think that?” Greg asked in disbelief. “You’re a beautiful woman, anyone could see that.” This made Alice blush. “And, as someone who danced with Georgia for three weeks, I can assure you that she’s not smarter than anyone.” 

“Thanks, Greg. You’re sweet,” she smiled. They had gotten to her flat now, and faced each other to exchange goodnights. 

“If it’s any consolation, I think he’s an absolute idiot for letting go of a woman like you.” 

“It is a consolation. Thanks.” 

“Well, goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” He started to walk away, but Alice stopped him. “Greg?” He turned. “For what it’s worth, I think your ex-wife must have been crazy.” Greg smiled at her one last time before she entered her flat and closed the door behind her.


	14. Confusion Cleared Up

John and Anne were both bored, so they went to get coffee and then take a walk, since it was a nice day and Anne liked to be in the crisp autumn air. They had their coffee and then started walking around the streets of London. John kept noticing smiles and glances coming from Anne. Surely she must like him. He was going to take her hand when she reached over and ruffled his hair, then laughed and ran ahead. Maybe she just saw him as a friend? 

They found a bench to sit on and people-watch where people were likely to just ignore them, and Anne rested her head on John’s shoulder. He put his arm around her instinctively and she pointed out various people and they came up with stories for them – who they were, where they were going. Of course, had Sherlock been there, he would have proved them all wrong, but they were laughing and having fun. Anne saw a guy with a jumper very similar to the ones John was always wearing and pointed him out. 

“That guy looks sweet and dependable and a really good friend.” 

John seriously couldn’t figure this woman out. She was cuddled up against his side with her head on his shoulder, yet was saying that he seemed like just friend material. Finally, he couldn’t stand the confusion anymore and removed his arm from her shoulders, scooting away to make her face him. 

“Anne, I can’t do this anymore, I have to know. Do you like me or not?”

“What? You can’t tell?” 

“No. Not one bit.” 

“Perhaps this will make it more clear,” she said, scooting closer to him. She put a hand on his knee and pressed her lips to his. John began kissing her back, putting a hand on the back of her neck to kiss her more deeply. When she broke away, he smiled at her. 

“So…are you doing anything tonight?” he asked.


	15. A Bad Day

Lestrade was sitting in his office. He had just gotten to work, but was already excited for his dance lesson that night. However, his mood was instantly killed when Donovan burst into his office, interrupting him from enjoying his morning coffee.

“Sir, there’s been another dancer murdered.” 

So much for having a nice day. He grabbed his coat and pulled out his phone to text Sherlock as he headed over. The body was found in a wax museum – creepy. When he got there, Sherlock was already there examining the body. The corpse also had a scarf around her neck. Strangled, just like the other victims. 

Greg conducted some interviews and found out that she was a dancer in a musical called Redhead, which begins with, of course, a murder via strangulation in a wax museum. She was also a dancer who specialized in jazz dance and musical theatre dance. 

The body was sent to Molly at the morgue and the crime scene cleaned up. Greg was interviewing people and investigating for the rest of the day, and couldn’t have been more happy to leave that evening for dance class. However, the murder was still running through his mind that evening as he tried to make sense of everything. It was clearly the work of Moriarty, but he didn’t know enough to make a connection. He would need some help figuring it all out.


	16. Letting Loose

“Greg, are you okay?” Alice had to ask – he was messing up all over the place, and he was usually the best dancer in the class. His mind seemed to be somewhere else. Her mind, on the other hand, was going in thoroughly unladylike directions as she looked at him in his black pants and purple button-up shirt. 

“Sorry?” 

“You seem a bit…preoccupied. I couldn’t help but notice,” she pointed out apologetically.

“To be honest, my mind is a bit on my work. Sorry. There was another murder today and I guess I can’t get it out of my head.” 

“Another dancer?” 

“Yes, I’m afraid so.” 

“Well, if you want, I can try to help however I can. But for now, maybe you just need to relax and dance,” she said with a smile. 

“Relax – that’s something I haven’t gotten to do all day.” 

“Do you have a few minutes after class? I think I have an idea.” 

“I have all the time in the world,” he said, not sure what she had in mind, but not complaining if a sexy woman wanted to help him relax. 

The class continued as usual, and Greg stayed behind while everyone gathered up their things and left. As soon as they were gone, he looked at Alice curiously. She was incredibly alluring in a strappy black dress with a skirt that twirled, her hair softly curled around her face, and red lipstick playing on her lips. Without a word, she put on a sultry tango song and walked toward him. 

“You’ve had a rough day, but it’s okay to let go once in a while,” she explained. “Now, turn off your brain and just feel. Feel the music, feel the floor, and feel…well, me.” At that, she took his hands and placed them properly, one on her back, until their chests were pressed together. Greg hadn’t had the time recently to just stop and feel a beautiful woman near him, and he was able to turn off his mind quite easily when her face was so close to his. 

He began to move as the music told him to, their bodies moving together. She twirled until her back was against him, sliding up his chest. He spun her away from him, then back into him, their foreheads touching, mouths just a breath apart, her hand sliding down the silky purple fabric on his chest. One of her legs wrapped around his and slid up it until her knee was against his hip. 

They continued to move as one unit in a similar manner, Alice following his leads expertly, until they both felt the song end and he dipped her, having to physically stop himself from ravishing her mouth with his. It took a moment before he could pull himself together enough to place her upright – he hadn’t had an experience so sexy in a long time. They stood breathing heavily for a minute, bodies still pressed together, before they each took a step back and began to gather up their things. When Greg was composed enough to speak, he insisted on walking her home again. 

“Thanks for the dance,” he finally said a few minutes after they’d started walking. 

“No, thank you. I haven’t had a really great dance like that in a while.” 

“Really?” Greg found this surprising. “I thought Hunter would have danced with you like that all the time.”

“To be honest, I can barely even remember the last time he touched me.”

“Idiot,” he muttered to himself. 

“Sorry?” Alice asked, wondering if she’d heard him right. 

“Oh, nothing.” She decided to let it go and continue. 

“Even when he kissed me, it always felt like he was thinking about someone else.” 

“Now, that should be a crime.”

“What should?”

“Kissing a beautiful woman and not appreciating it.” This made Alice blush a deep pink, and she didn’t know how to respond, so there were a few minutes of silence. 

“I honestly don’t know why we didn’t split up a while ago. I don’t think I loved him anymore either, it was just easy and familiar. It’s bad, but I’m sort of relieved at the freedom. Not that it was particularly fun to be cheated on – I could have done without the crushed ego and the aching sense of betrayal. But…it’s sort of liberating to know I’m better off without him, and open myself up for someone who might actually care about me. Is that bad?”

“Not at all. You deserve someone who recognizes how wonderful you are.” At this, Alice blushed again, and there were another few minutes of silence before Greg changed the subject.

“How long have you been dancing?” he finally asked. He wanted to know her better and hear about her passions, interests, and goals. 

“Oh, my whole life. I’ve always loved dancing, as long as I can remember. I love how music just makes me want to move, and I’ve always found it interesting how different styles of music affect the body differently. When I was a little girl, I used to choreograph dances with my friends…Sorry, I’m getting carried away.”

“No, you’re doing what you love, that’s great.” 

Alice asked Greg about being a Detective Inspector and he told her why he had chosen that line of work and how long he’d been doing it. She was so impressed by him – he was really making a difference in peoples’ lives.

“It’s an important job. I wish I could really help people like that.” 

“You do,” Greg said. “Everyone needs to stop and feel the music once in a while.”

They had reached Alice’s flat by now, and stood in front of her door facing each other. A street lamp was shining on her face and Greg thought she looked like a film noir vixen. What did that make him, the hardboiled detective? He suddenly felt a bleak sense of hopelessness – surely this woman would never go for him. 

“Greg, I…” she started, not brave enough to finish her sentence as originally intended. “I really appreciate you walking me home,” she finished lamely. 

“I’m happy to do it,” he told her. 

She hesitated for a moment while he just looked at her, then slowly wrapped her arms around his neck in a hug, her cheek pressed against his shoulder. After a moment, he slipped his arms around her waist, holding her, a hand rubbing her back. They stood like that for a few moments, longer than necessary but not to the point of being awkward. Alice broke the embrace and took a step back, blushing, a bit embarrassed.

“Sorry if that was inappropriate,” she told him. 

“No, not at all,” he replied with a smile. 

“You’ve been so kind to me and it’s really nice of you to care about my safety and all, I just wanted to thank you for everything.” 

“I’m happy to,” he said honestly. 

“Well…goodnight,” Alice said, not knowing what else to say.

“Goodnight, Alice.”


	17. Passion Interrupted

John and Anne had just finished having dinner and made it back to Anne’s flat. She had looked gorgeous that night in a white skirt and green top, and John had worn jeans and a gray jumper over a blue plaid shirt.

“Would you like to come in? I have some wine,” she said.

“Sure.” 

They went into her flat and Anne turned on the lights and got a fire going to warm the place up a bit. She poured them each a glass of red wine and they kicked off their shoes and curled up on the loveseat close to the fire, cuddled up, sharing a blanket. They chatted about the murders, which were the current focus of Sherlock, and therefore a large part of John’s life, since he could never escape his flat mate’s cases. However, Sherlock seemed to be having trouble figuring out what the killer was going to do next – there was an evident pattern, but it was proving hard to follow the future of that pattern. 

After this topic had exhausted itself, the two finished their wine and Anne brought the glasses to the kitchen. By that time the fire, wine, and cuddling had warmed them up a bit. She re-joined John on the couch and he wasted no time in placing one hand behind her head and leaning over to kiss her lips sweetly. She started kissing him back and put a hand on his knee, and soon, the kisses became more passionate as his tongue slid past her lips. She sighed and moved closer, sliding her hand up his thigh as the kissing grew even more passionate.   
Anne’s hand stopped at his upper thigh and he moaned and gently pushed her back onto the loveseat, until he was on top of her. The loveseat was a bit short for them, but they didn’t seem to notice as John began kissing down her neck, pausing only to let her pull his jumper off over his head. His mouth continued working its way down her neck, past her collarbone and to the top of her chest as she worked on the buttons of his shirt. He raised his head to once more capture her mouth, tongues exploring as his hands ran up her legs, over her hips, and up her sides. They were suddenly interrupted when there was a knock on the door. They jumped, startled, and John rose off of her, his shirt entirely unbuttoned, to allow her to see who it was. 

“Sherlock?” Anne asked in disbelief, a bit flustered. “How do you know where I live?”

“I traced John’s phone, it wasn’t hard. Speaking of which, John, I need to use your phone,” he said, pushing his way past Anne and walking over to John, apparently not noticing that his flat mate’s shirt was open.

“Sherlock, if I recall, I believe you have your own phone.”

“The number will be recognized. Your phone,” the consulting detective insisted, holding out a hand. John muttered something under his breath and reached into his pocket to pull out his phone. Sherlock took a moment to send a text, then waited for a minute for a reply. John’s phone let out a tone and Sherlock read the response.

“AHA!” he said excitedly, then handed the phone back to John. Sherlock then strode to the door and opened it dramatically before leaving and slamming it behind him. 

“One of these days, I’m going to snap,” John said, but couldn’t finish the sentence because Anne had grabbed the sides of his open shirt and started kissing him again, using the shirt to drab him toward the bedroom. Once the bedroom door was closed, the shirt was quickly discarded as they made their way to the bed, John breaking the passionate kisses only for a moment while he quickly made sure that Anne was equally dressed.


	18. An Unexpected Wingman

“New Scotland Yard.”

“May I please speak to Detective Inspector Lestrade?” 

“One moment, please.” Alice waited while she was connected. 

“Lestrade speaking.”

“Hi, Greg? This is Alice.” She heard a sound like a folder hitting the floor and a bunch of shuffling as if someone was trying to gather them up. 

“Alice. Hello. What can I do for you?”

“I was just calling to see if you needed any more help with your case. I know you were stressed out about it last night and just wanted to see if you needed me.”

“Actually, that would be helpful,” he admitted. “Are you busy now?”

“No, I could come now. I’ll bring my books.”

“Alright. I’ll see you soon, then.” 

“I look forward to it,” Alice said before hanging up the phone, embarrassed. 

When she got there, carrying her books and wearing fitted jeans and a vintage blouse, she made her way to Lestrade’s office and was stopped by a slimy, nasal voice. 

“Can I help you, miss?” She turned to see who the voice belonged to. She couldn’t help but gasp and recoil when she saw the gaunt, horrifying creature that was speaking. 

“Um…I’m here to see DI Lestrade.” 

“You know Lestrade? How?”

“I’m his dance instructor,” she informed him, and noticed a look of dismay cross his face. He was eyeballing her in a way that made her feel very uncomfortable, so she just continued to step toward Greg’s office. A moment later, Donovan approached and slapped Anderson on the back of the head. 

She entered Greg’s office and saw that Sherlock Holmes must have also been summoned, since he was in the office, waiting patiently. She was updated on the latest murder, the star of a show called Redhead that was killed in a wax museum. 

“Well, that is the opening of that musical. And we guessed correctly – Bob Fosse, born in 1927. He’s the one who choreographed that show. The problem is, of course…what is the next step in the pattern?” 

Greg looked like he didn’t have an answer and Sherlock looked off into space as if he were trying to figure out the answer to that. Alice began flipping through her books, looking for an answer. 

“The play premiered in 1959 and Bob Fosse died in 1987, heart attack. I suppose either of those dates is a possibility to go off of. I’m not sure what else we have to go on, though. There’s definitely a pattern, but it’s not exactly consistent. You know, to be honest, I’m glad the Bob Fosse-related murder is over. I was a bit scared.”

“Why?” Sherlock asked, suddenly attentive.

“Because Bob Fosse also choreographed Chicago, and I’m performing a scene from Chicago next weekend. I’m playing Velma in ‘Cell Block Tango’ in a variety show at The Palladium.”  
Greg and Sherlock exchanged a look. 

“Why didn’t you mention this earlier?” Lestrade demanded, standing up. “You could have gotten killed!”

“I didn’t want you to worry…”

“You’re lucky you’re alive. You should have told me immediately!” 

“I’m sorry…” she was ashamed and looked into her lap. 

Lestrade’s anger softened a bit and he sat back down, rubbing his forehead. 

“I’m sorry. I just want to make sure you’re safe. I care about you.”

“You do?” she asked, looking up. 

“Of course he does, it’s obvious to anyone,” Sherlock interjected impatiently. 

“Do you mind?” Lestrade asked, and Sherlock just stared at him as if he didn’t know what the DI was talking about. Greg just rolled his eyes and shook his head at Sherlock before turning back to Alice. 

“I would hate it if anything happened to you,” Lestrade continued. 

“Oh, for god’s sake, would you just ask her out so that we can get back to the case?” Sherlock asked urgently, clearly wanting to get back to the murders he found so fascinating. 

“Sherlock,” Greg warned.

“You were going to ask me out?” Alice asked, suddenly very interested.

“No,” Greg said.

“Oh.”

“Well, I’ve thought about it. You just got out of a relationship, I didn’t want to—”

“Yes.” 

“Yes?” 

“I mean, if you were asking…”

“Yes.”

“So…it’s a date?” 

“Tonight?” 

“Yes,” Alice concluded, and she and Greg smiled at each other. 

“Now, the case,” Sherlock insisted, clearly getting a bit antsy, ruining the moment. 

“Ah, right, the case,” Greg re-directed his focus again, returning to his books and documents.


	19. The First Date

Alice arrived at the restaurant and smiled when she saw Greg sitting at a table, looking fantastic in black pants and a light blue button-up shirt. She looked incredible herself in her favorite little black dress. 

“You look amazing,” Greg told her, smiling. 

“Thank you, so do you.” 

They ordered their food and some wine, which they sipped on while they talked. 

“I’m glad you asked me out tonight,” Alice told him with a smile.

“So am I,” he smiled back. 

They drank their wine and exchanged anecdotes about their jobs, laughing and enjoying each other’s company. As they chatted, Greg reached across the table to take her hand, rubbing his thumb across her fingers while they talked. Alice hadn’t had a man be so attentive to her in a long time, and it was a great feeling. Their food arrived and they ate, enjoying the delicious food and glancing at each other. 

When they were finished, Greg paid and helped her on with her coat, insisting on walking her home. While they were walking, he reached over and took her hand, lacing his fingers through hers. He couldn’t believe this incredible woman had agreed to go out with him, especially because there was a bit of an age difference. However, she didn’t seem to mind; in fact, she appreciated it – men her age seemed immature, irresponsible, and careless.

When they arrived at her flat, there was a brief awkward moment while they faced each other, before Greg decided to just bring up what was on his mind.

“Would it be alright if I kissed you?” Alice nodded and Greg took a step closer, placing a few fingers under her chin and leaning down to gently press his lips to hers. He kissed her languidly, romantically, like he wanted to keep kissing her forever. He exhaled as the kiss deepened, running his hand down her neck, across her shoulder, and back up until it was cupping her jaw. She ran her hands up his chest, one travelling around his neck and up into his silver hair. When his lips finally released hers, Alice just breathed for a moment, her eyes still closed. She managed to open them for a moment to find him gazing down at her. 

“That was the best kiss I’ve ever had,” she told him, quite honestly.

“I told you, it should be a crime to kiss a beautiful woman and not appreciate it. As someone who works in law enforcement, I couldn’t possibly commit an infraction like that.”

“I think you should obey that law again, just for good measure,” she smiled. He complied, lowering his mouth to hers again, wrapping his arms around her waist to pull her close as her hands ran through his hair. She couldn’t remember the last time she felt so…desired. Hunter certainly had never kissed her like that. 

When Greg broke the kiss, he continued to hold her close for a moment, never wanting to let her go.

“Can I call you tomorrow?”

“I’d like that,” she told him. He smiled and gave her one last brief kiss, then said goodnight and got in a cab to get back to his flat, smiling the whole way.


	20. Happy Army Doctor

“Why is there an arm in your fridge?” Anne asked, turning in the general direction of John and Sherlock. 

“It’s an experiment,” Sherlock informed her impatiently, not looking up from his microscope.

“I bet you say that to all the girls,” she joked, and Sherlock just looked confused while John held back a laugh. He loved how sassy Anne was, especially to Sherlock. It was even funnier because he usually didn’t understand what she was talking about. Sherlock decided that he needed better resources and would to St. Bart’s to get Molly to let him into the lab.

As soon as he had left, Anne walked over to the green chair John was sitting in, straddled his lap, and began kissing him, fingers playing with his hair. He sighed into her mouth and slid his hands down her sides and around her waist, kissing her back passionately. Their tongues began exploring and they were both breathing heavily before John decided that the snogging should continue in the bedroom, where there was more room. 

He and Anne stood up and she started kissing his neck, undoing buttons while he backed her up the stairs. Her mouth returned to his as she slid his shirt off of his shoulders and left it on the stairs before they entered John’s bedroom. He backed her against the inside of the door and began kissing across her collarbone, his hands roaming up to her chest as she moaned. She pushed him toward the bed and he scooped her up, sucking on her earlobe as he carried her to the bed. He wasted no time in getting her shirt off and exploring the newly exposed skin with his lips as she undid his belt.


	21. A Perfect Gentleman

The final dance lesson of the six-week class was uneventful, but Alice was proud of her students. Most of them at the very least showed an enthusiasm for tango and enjoyed what they had learned. Steve and Nadine would have probably learned more had they not made out half the time, but they would probably look fine dancing at their wedding. Jean and Dolores said they wanted to take more lessons, as did Todd, much to their displeasure, since he gave everyone the willies. Luke clearly hadn’t wanted to be there in the first place, but Alice hoped he had gotten something out of the lessons anyway. 

Then there was Greg. She had never expected on the first day of class that six weeks later she would be broken up with Hunter and dating a much more incredible guy, but she couldn’t have been happier. It was hard to be double-crossed by Hunter, but if she hadn’t realized what a creep he was, she might not have started dating Greg. 

As soon as everybody had left, Alice wasted no time in grabbing the lapels of Greg’s shirt and pulling his mouth down to hers. He wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her back hungrily, neither of them ever wanting to stop. However, eventually, Alice broke the kiss. 

“I’ve wanted to do that since you showed up.” 

“I’m glad you got what you wanted,” he smiled. “Are you hungry?”

“Starving.”

“Good, so am I.” 

They began walking to a nearby pub to get some food. 

“So, about this performance you said you had,” Greg said, “I would love to attend it.”

“Really?” Alice smiled.

“Of course.” 

They made it to the pub and ate dinner before walking back to Alice’s flat. When they got there, Greg wasted no time in pulling her close to him and dipping his mouth down to hers. Alice was constantly amazed how every kiss with Greg was so passionate and affectionate, as if he had been waiting his whole life to give her that kiss. He finally stopped for air and held Alice close to him, his forehead against hers while she stroked the hair behind his ear. 

“I have a confession,” he told her.

“What is it?” 

“I wanted to kiss you the first time I saw you.”

“To be honest, so did I,” she admitted. It was the truth. “Maybe we should go inside.”

“I’m not sure if I should,” he told her, pressing another kiss on her lips and running a hand down her hip, “if I go inside I might forget how to be a gentleman. You recently ended a long-term relationship; I don’t want to rush you.”

She kissed him again slowly, passionately. He kissed her back with the same affection he always did, but with a bit of caution. She broke the kiss and smiled at him. 

“I suppose you’re right,” she agreed, and took a step back to get out her keys. She got her door open and leaned through the doorway to give him one last kiss.


	22. A Girlfriend Fails to be Frightened Away

Sherlock burst into John’s bedroom, making John and Anne awake with a jolt. They had been cuddling happily, comfortably asleep, and now held the sheet tightly to their naked bodies as they looked at Sherlock, surprised and slightly embarrassed. 

“Sherlock, how many times, exactly, have I told you not to come into my bedroom without asking?” John demanded.

“Twenty-seven,” Sherlock answered bluntly and accurately. “I need to use your computer,” he added, grabbing the electronic device.

“What’s wrong with your computer?”

“It’s in my room,” he said, as if this made sense. Then he simply turned and walked out, closing the door behind him. 

“I’d say we should spend the night at your flat more, but he interrupts us there too,” John said, shaking his head. Anne gave him a quick kiss and hopped out of bed, starting to put on her clothes. 

“I have to go,” she said, looking at her phone to check the time.

“Oh, god. Sherlock’s scared you away. He always does this,” John complained, putting his head in his hands. 

“Hey, no one’s scaring me away,” Anne told him. She sat on the bed, now dressed, and gave John a long, lingering kiss. “I just have to go to work. I’ll call you when I’m done.” 

“Oh…excellent,” he said with a smile. He couldn’t believe that this woman wasn’t fazed by his rude flat mate. She gave him one more kiss before leaving for work.


	23. Disappeared

Greg sat in the front row of the audience. John and Anne were sitting next to him, also there to watch Alice perform, and they had even managed to drag Sherlock there, although he was sulking with his arms crossed over his chest. They were entertained by a variety of acts, and finally it was announced that ‘Cell Block Tango’ was the next act. The curtain opened on six women behind a set of prison bars, the lighting dark enough to see only silhouettes. They began the opening of the song, “Pop, Six, Squish, Uh-uh, Cicero, Lipschitz.” The lights came on and Greg’s jaw dropped, his mouth hanging open as he stared at Alice. She was wearing a leather corset, fish nets, crimson lipstick, and a wig that was cut into a 1920s-style bob. Greg’s mind immediately started going in a very ungentlemanly direction. It took him half the song-and-dance number before he realized his mouth was still open.

On Alice’s part, she had no problem playing a murderess if she simply thought about Hunter. Suddenly the words “He had it comin’ / He had it comin’ / He only had himself to blame” seemed incredibly appropriate. 

The song and dance was finished and the curtain closed on them – it had been the last performance of the evening, so everybody started to get up to leave. Greg decided to go backstage and tell Alice how fabulous she had been, and the rest of the group followed to do the same. However, once they were backstage, they couldn’t find her anywhere. 

“Excuse me, I’m looking for Alice,” Greg asked one of the girls she had performed with.

“I don’t know where she is. She disappeared as soon as the act was over, the rest of us have no idea where she went.”

Greg suddenly felt a bit sick…he hoped nothing had happened to her, and that she had just gone off somewhere. However, he had the distinct feeling that she was in danger. This was confirmed when Sherlock’s phone went off with a text message. Sherlock read it and his eyes narrowed. 

I love to watch you dance. After all, it takes two to tango. – JM

“He has her,” Sherlock informed everyone.

“Where? Where has he taken her?” Greg demanded. 

“I don’t know, I need to think,” Sherlock said. The entire group rushed outside, piling into a couple of cabs to make their way to Baker Street.


	24. Video Chat

Sherlock had his computer open and was doing searches, trying to figure out something that would give him a clue to Alice’s location. Greg was pacing around frantically, unable to sit still. Sherlock was about to do another search when the video chat popped up on his computer.

“Hi, honey!” Moriarty said, waving into the camera with an evil smile on his face.

“Moriarty,” Sherlock said angrily. 

“I know this strays a bit from my pattern but she was such a pretty thing. I just couldn’t resist,” Moriarty taunted. 

“Where is she?” 

“Now, what fun would that be, if I just told you? Don’t be boring, Sherlock.” Sherlock just glared, trying to figure everything out. “I assume your friend Lestrade is there. Hiiii!” Greg ran over and looked over Sherlock’s shoulder, his jaw clenching. “Sherlock, look at the poor man. You couldn’t possibly let him down now, when he has soooo much faith in you.” 

“I don’t intend to,” Sherlock said calmly.

“Oh, what’s that? Greg, it seems someone wants to talk to you!” With that the camera shifted and a moment later, Alice was shown, sitting in a chair with red lights roaming over her body. Moriarty had his snipers aimed at her. 

“Alice!” Greg said. She was still wearing her costume from the performance, and tears of fear were streaming down her face. Nothing could be seen around her besides a white wall behind her.

“Go ahead, little dancer. Tell him what you want,” Moriarty said smugly. When Alice didn’t answer, and just sobbed, he prompted her. “NOW!” he shouted in her ear.

“Greg, help me…please…” she rasped, her voice wobbling from crying.

“I will, Alice, I promise. We’re going to save you,” Greg told her. His grip tightened on the back of the chair Sherlock was sitting in. If that creep did anything to hurt her, Greg would make sure he experienced the most agonizing pain he’d ever felt in his life. The camera focused on Moriarty again and he smiled. 

“I’m getting impatient, Sherlock. I even gave you an easy one, I have to say I’m disappointed.” Sherlock glared. “I hope you get here soon, otherwise I might have to do something dramatic. Laters!” With that, the video chat ended. Sherlock thought for a few moments, then figured it out.

“Of course! Pentonville. She’s in a cell.”

“How do you know?” Greg asked.

“ ‘Cell Block Tango’…it was easy, too easy.” 

Greg and Sherlock rushed out.

*****

They found the cell and Alice was alone. As soon as Sherlock arrived, the red lights disappeared. The snipers were very well-hidden somewhere.

As soon as she was out of danger, Alice jumped out of the chair and ran to Greg, crying into his shirt. He wrapped his arms around her, stroked her hair, kissed the top of her head. He managed to get her into a cab and drive her back to her flat. He got her inside and sent her to change and get in bed while he made some tea. When he came into her bedroom, she was in pajamas and sitting up in the bed. 

He gave her the tea, kicked off his shoes and removed his jacket, then sat on the bed next to her, putting his arm around her while she drank the tea. When she finished the tea, he put the cup on the nightstand next to her bed and held her until she fell asleep.


	25. Sherlock-Free

John and Anne were in 221B watching a film on the telly, but John got bored and began kissing Anne’s neck, running a hand up her leg. She turned to capture his mouth with hers, kissing him deeply and sliding her tongue into his mouth, when she suddenly stopped and broke the kiss. 

“Should we go to my place? Sherlock could come in.” 

“He won’t come in,” John said, his mouth moving across her neck again. “I told him I ruined one of his experiments so he went to see Molly for some new parts. I told Molly to keep him busy for a while.” 

“You did that just so we could be alone?” Anne asked, then gasped when John bit her earlobe. 

“It’s worth it,” John said, continuing to nibble on her ear while his hand slid up her shirt. 

Anne wasted no time in grabbing John’s hand and running him up the stairs to the bedroom. As soon as the door was closed, he pushed her against the door and started kissing her passionately, their tongues quickly exploring each other’s mouths. She quickly removed his jumper and started unbuttoning his shirt while he started kissing her collarbone, sucking the delicate skin there. 

As soon as his shirt came off, his mouth returned to hers and she grabbed him by the ass to pull his hips closer to hers. He moaned into her mouth and quickly got her shirt off, her bra coming quickly after. John managed to kiss her over to the bed where she immediately started undoing his belt as his mouth started to travel below her collarbone, lower until she was panting with desire. The rest of their clothes were quickly removed as they enjoyed a Sherlock-free night.


	26. Surprise

A week after Alice had been kidnapped, she was fully recovered from the trauma and had gone on a couple more wonderful dates with Greg. One night he worked late and got home a bit later than usual after a bad day. He called Alice to see if she wanted to go out to help him forget the bad day, but she said she had plans. Greg was disappointed, but he understood. He wasn’t the only person in her life and he encouraged her to spend time with people besides him. 

However, twenty minutes later there was a knock on his door, and he opened it to find Alice outside, wearing a long coat since it was a bit cold outside. He had already lit a fire, fortunately, and he invited her in, very glad to see her. 

“I thought you said you had plans,” he said, giving her a kiss after he had closed the door. 

“I didn’t tell you what my plans were,” she told him. “You just go relax and sit by the fire, I’ll be over in a minute.” 

Greg didn’t know what she had in mind, but he had a feeling he would enjoy it, so he did what she said, waiting for her as he sat down on the couch in front of the fire. A moment later, she was standing in front of him and dropped her coat to reveal her costume from the ‘Cell Block Tango’ scene, the leather corset top, leather garter shorts, and thigh-high fishnets. Instead of the 20s bob wig, she had opted to let her own hair fall in waves on her shoulders. Greg stared with his mouth open for a moment. He hadn’t been expecting that at all. 

“I told you I had plans when you asked if I wanted to go out, because I felt much more like staying in tonight,” she told him, going to the couch and straddling him. She slowly lowered her head to his, kissing him seductively, her tongue sliding into his mouth for just a moment. 

“I like the way you think,” he said, and she gave him a wicked smile. She kissed him passionately again, and Greg moved his hands over her hips while she played with his hair. He sighed and moved his tongue into her mouth to explore. She began kissing his neck, undoing the buttons on the shirt he had worn to work that day. 

“Alice,” he gasped, “bedroom.” She got off of him and he stood up, immediately pulling him to her and kissing him again as he backed them into the bedroom. While they were walking, she finished her work on his buttons, his shirt sliding off and being left behind in the hallway before she started working on his belt. The bedroom door closed behind them and Greg’s pants were quickly abandoned, leaving him in nothing but his boxers and socks. Alice pushed him back onto the bed, crawling on top of him, the leather sliding across his skin. He raised his head to begin kissing her neck, working to undo the laces of her corset while he did. It took him a good few minutes to get it off, teasing the skin of her neck, collarbone, and upper chest with his mouth as he worked until she was breathing quite heavily. It wasn’t long after that before the remainder of their garments were discarded.


	27. The Last Dance

Molly Hooper stared at Sherlock while he looked through the microscope. She’d had a crush on him for ages, but he seemed to hardly know she existed. Sure, he appreciated her for helping him with his work, but she really needed to get out more and meet some new people. 

“Sherlock, I don’t suppose we could…hurry this along?” Molly asked shyly. Sherlock looked up from his microscope, surprised. 

“Why? Do you have plans?” he asked, a bit sarcastically.

“Well…yes,” she said, surprising him. Sherlock just stared at her confusedly. He wasn’t used to Molly wanting to do something else when she was spending time for him. He ignored her and moved his head back down to the microscope. 

“I have a tango lesson,” she elaborated. 

Sherlock’s head shot up.


End file.
